


Night eternal

by Ischa



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Bogeyman, Creepy, Disturbing Themes, M/M, Monsters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monsters. Or the one in which Adam is human. </p><p>  <i>Kris was the reason Adam wouldn't fall in love.</i><br/><i>Kris was Adam's perfect nightmare.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Night eternal

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics: Kris Allen.  
> Beta: omletlove (who is awesome)
> 
>  
> 
> These are 3 different, linked, stories.

One: Shadows  
 _My fingers trace the outline of your shape_

There was something in the darkness. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He just needed to count to ten like his shrink told him too.  
There was nothing in the darkness; it was just shadows and light. Or the lack of light, whatever. He took another breath. One- inhale, two- exhale, three- inhale, four... Something moved. He could _feel_ it.  
Adam's eyes flew open and he stepped back from the wall he had been leaning on. He was maybe drunker than he thought. Maybe he wasn't drunk enough. There was no way in hell he would be walking back to his apartment.  
He wished he didn't have to break up with his boyfriend, but you can only take so much from lying, cheating bastards.  
Maybe he should have waited for his friends to walk him home.  
Maybe, maybe, maybe...  
The darkness leaped.  
The shadow at his feet got bigger, darker, meaner. Shadows shouldn't ever look that mean. Shouldn't have a personality either.  
Didn't have. 

“Adam.” It was a hissed whisper.  
Adam could feel sanity slipping away. He stepped around the shadow and heard a low laugh.  
“You should have listened to your brother when he told you to run away,” Kris said. His voice always sounded like whispers in the wind on a cold winter morning. Mean and sharp.  
Adam remembered. He had told Neil he wasn't scared and he had been lying ever since to everyone, including himself.  
'You can cross that line only once' Kris had said. Adam hadn't even thought Kris had been real at the time. 

“I was seven,” Adam answered and he knew it was a mistake. Because you didn't talk to your childhood monsters. Sane people didn't do that. Adam was so far from sane he couldn't even grasp the concept of it anymore.

“It does not matter to me,” Kris said. The shadow followed him along the walls of the houses he passed. He could see the darkness moving from the corner of his eye.  
It was darker than normal shadows. It was thick like tar and oozing, dripping with a soft noise Adam was sure no one else could even hear. 

“What does matter to you?” Adam asked. His voice echoed from the empty streets. There was that laugh again, the one that chilled Adam to the bone. 

“Don't you know, Adam?” Kris asked. The shadow was a black pool of – something. Adam didn't think there were even words for it in the human language, but ‘terror’ came close. Adam shook his head, stopping in front of the impenetrable pool. He watched as the darkness moved, pulling the shadows in until he could see Kris standing in front of him. He looked the same as the first time Adam had seen him when he was seven in his brother's closet. Kris never changed, would never change, could never change. Kris was eternal like the night. Like terror.  
Kris was the reason Adam couldn't sleep at night.  
Kris was the reason Adam had more lamps than a light store.  
Kris was the reason Adam wouldn't fall in love.  
Kris was Adam's perfect nightmare.  
“You,” Kris said, reaching out with a pale hand. Adam stepped back. There were lines that could not be crossed. Kris laughed. “Now? Really, now you're thinking this over?” 

“I was seven-”

“And ten, and thirteen, and fifteen, and eighteen, and twenty-one. Should I go on?”

“You tricked me into you,” Adam said, taking another step back. The shadows around them formed a loose circle. Adam wasn't sure he wouldn't just fall into a nightmare world if he should step on them, or cross them. He stood stock-still. 

Kris watched him. “You called me.” 

Adam shook his head like a kid. Denying everything. “No.” 

“You called for me. You whispered my name when you touched yourself. You wrote about me in your notebook, you -”

“NO!”

Kris huffed, annoyed. “Adam,” he said and grabbed Adam's wrist. His touch was cold and crushing. Kris didn't pull, though. He didn't need to; Adam couldn't run, not with the shadows holding him rooted to the spot. They were three-headed dogs, guarding every exit. “This is were you belong.” 

“I don't-” 

“Boys that glitter, Adam, love the dark,” Kris cut in. He ran a finger over Adam's lips and Adam let him, was paralysed. Couldn't move even if he wanted to. 

“I don't love-”

“And you are luminous, Adam,” Kris interrupted him, leaning forward. Kris eyes were as dark as the shadows around him. As dark as Kris’ soul, as dark as Adam's fear.  
Kris' teeth were sharp against Adam's pliant lips. 

 

Two: Teeth  
 _Go on and scream 'cause nobody's gonna find ya_

Kris' teeth ripped into the tender flesh of Adam's inner thigh and Adam bit his palm to keep the scream in. It hurt. It hurt like hell and there was nothing, absolutely nothing erotic about it. Every single fucking book Adam read on vampires lied.  
Kris made a noise like a moan that Adam could barely hear over the rushing in his ears and the fuck, fuck, fuck repeating in his head.  
Kris' fingers held him in place, were holding him down with a strength Adam wouldn't have thought possible. He took a shaky breath and let up on his palm. Kris sat up and looked at him. His mouth was red, shiny and wet from Adam's blood. One of Kris' hands was putting pressure on the wound. Adam could see the blood spilling through Kris' fingers and over his own pale skin, soaking the sheets. 

“Are you okay?” Kris asked wiping his mouth with his free hand.  
Adam was not. He stared at the place where Kris' hand pressed onto the wound. Blood drops drying on Kris' skin. Kris grabbed his chin lightning fast and turned Adam's head so he would look at Kris. “It's going to be alright,” he said. 

Adam nodded, but he had no idea if it would. Kris was not the person Adam though he was. Kris wasn't even a human being to begin with.  
“You're not-” 

Kris cut him off. “I though this time would be different,” he said softly. It sounded a bit sad, a part resigned. 

This time? Adam thought. This was the first time as far as Adam could remember. And then Adam got it. “You made me forget!” He struggled, but Kris' grip was firm on him. There was nowhere to go. 

“Adam-”

“I'm not listening to you!”

“Adam, look at me,” Kris said and Adam did, because this was Kris and Adam was so incredibly stupid when it came to him. Kris pupils were black and his irises shimmering. 

“Don't,” Adam said, because he knew what was coming. 

“I'm sorry,” Kris answered as his fingers dug into the wound to make it look torn and messy, instead of two small punctured holes. And the kicker was Adam knew Kris _was_ sorry. Adam screamed.  
“This will need stitches,” was the last thing Adam heard before he blacked out. 

 

Three: Stitches  
 _I'm searching for the sound of your heartbeat_

Adam traced the stitches on Kris' chest. They were new, the flesh around them red and irritated. Stark black thread against skin. 

“You're obsessed with it,” Kris said. 

“I'm obsessed with you,” Adam answered, which was the truth. 

“Only because I'm the most perfect monster you've ever seen,” Kris replied.  
That was true too; Kris was the most perfect monster Adam has ever seen. Not that he had seen many. But those other poor things _looked_ like monsters too. Looked like the tragedies Mary Shelly wrote about. Kris was perfect except for that scar on his chest. That scar that had been opened countless times already. Just to keep Kris flawless. Just to keep him alive. “You will tire of me soon,” Kris whispered. 

Adam looked up and into his eyes and then shook his head. “Never,” he said and kissed Kris. 

Kris kissed back. “You will. You will resent me for who I am, for what I am. Katy, she couldn't even look at me as she got older-” 

Adam kissed him again. Katy was long gone. Hundred years dead and buried. Like all the other human beings Kris had been attached to. Adam didn't want to think about it. He wasn't old now. He wasn't ignorant enough to think he would stay like this forever, but he had a plan. “We could be monsters together,” he said. 

Kris looked at him, hard. “What?” 

“I could become what you are. You know how it works, don't you?” Adam asked. 

“Yes, I know. But no, Adam.” 

“Kris,” Adam said, sitting up and grabbing Kris’ hand. “This is no spur of the moment thing for me. We are, I mean since the first time I saw you I knew you were it for me.” 

“You're not even thirty yet.” 

Adam bit his lip. It was now or never. “The first time I saw you had been when I was fourteen, Kris.” 

“What?” 

“You remember that fat ginger kid on the beach that asked you about your scar?” Because it had been a scar back then, healed up and pale. 

“That had been you?” 

“That had been me.” Adam had never forgotten Kris' face or the scar that looked like it had been carved with a blunt knife and shaky hands. It probably had been. 

“Adam-”

“You love me, right?” Adam asked. 

“Yes.” 

“And I love you. We could get hearts for each other.” 

“It's not that easy to kill someone, to steal their heart, Adam. It's messy and bloody and dangerous. You've never killed anyone before. You aren't hat kind of person.”

“I would. For you I would. I know you do it, I help you put the new heart into your body I sew your flesh and skin to keep it inside. There is blood on my hands already, Kris.” 

“You would need to give up music,” Kris threw in. 

“No,” Adam answered. “I would need to give up the spotlight. That is not the same.” 

“Adam,” Kris closed his eyes like Adam's words hurt him.

“We don't have to decide now. There is still time and I do enjoy being the rockstar.” 

“Years of touring Adam and being big and a role-model, years of me killing people so I can live. So I can be with you. Years. You might think about it differently with sixty stolen hearts under our belts.” 

“Maybe,” Adam allowed, but he didn't think so. They had already 22.


End file.
